The Ladder
by gypsy rosalie
Summary: In which a New Year's Eve party is thrown, and Aveline faces a crisis. Belated giftfic for Sev. A little bit of Avwald.


**A belated Christmas giftfic for slenderpanda597, who is a splendid Bread buddy and wrote me an awesome Shelia for Christmas. Sorry about it being so late. Just a short, silly piece about Aveline, with a slight hint of Avwald at the end. I hope it turns out all right- seeing as I was writing giftfics in the car as I was travelling all over at Christmas and New Year, I'm a bit worried about the flow. I hope you like it.**

* * *

><p>'Aw, NO!'<p>

Aveline looked at it and then looked again, but it stayed where it was. This couldn't be happening- it just couldn't. She was a model- a _model_- and everything in her life depended on her looking her absolute best. If this got out- if anyone actually _saw_ her like _this…_

'Will you keep it down up there?!' Jack's voice bellowed up from downstairs. 'And 'urry up! This bleedin' party starts in ten minutes and we 'aven't even left yet!'

Aveline ignored him, turning back towards the full-length mirror on her wardrobe door and examining herself again. She would have looked a picture- perfectly rosy cheeks, dress and jacket resting on the very peak of fashion, blusher, eyeshadow and nails done to perfection- she was everything an attractive cover-girl should look like at a party- if it weren't for that little tear in her tights. That one tiny hole, no bigger than the circumference of her pinky finger, created a pale mar in the sparkly fabric that covered her legs. It didn't matter how fantastic the rest of her looked, that hole would stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone at the party would be looking at her, muttering to each other that Aveline Boswell, the so-called successful model, had the lack of sophistication to go out in public with a ripped pair of tights on. She'd be ruined.

No, she couldn't have this- she had to change. It didn't matter if they had less than ten minutes to be at the door, even if she made them late by doing a total wardrobe overhaul, she couldn't stay like this a moment longer.

Aveline stumbled across the room, the extra-high-heeled party shoes she had on making it a chore not to get stuck in the carpet, and yanked open her bedside table drawer, rummaging franticallyfor another pair of tights suitable to wear to a social occasion such as this. It was hosted by a friend of a friend of Joey, who had somehow snagged invites for all of them after a particularly successful few weeks of business deals together, and even though she wasn't holding out hope that a certain _someone_ would be in attendance- well, he couldn't be, could he, not there- she still did have a reputation, and a bit of admiration from one or two fellas at what promised to be one of the great social highlights of the year- wouldn't go astray.

'Aveline!' came Joey's voice. 'Come on, Princess, we're gonna be late!'

Oh, no no, no, not yet, she had to fix this…

'I'm not ready yet!' she hollered back, disregarding the _what, still?!_ from Jack.

'Well, get your skates on, sweetheart- they're expectin' us any minute!'

'Yeh!' Jack chimed in, just to make things worse, 'and I'm not ringin' in the NewYear waitin' in the parlour while me sister spends hours fussin' over her 'air!'

'It's not me hair!' Aveline screeched, her distress beginning to take over her entire body. 'It's worse than that! I can't go- you go on without me and I'll catch you up later!' she returned to her rummaging, tossing aside pairs of long socks and more hard-wearing but less elegant stockings in her quest for appropriate undergarments.

'What d'you mean, you'll catch us up?' Joey's voice was getting closer, accompanied by the thud of his shoes against the carpet. 'Don't be silly, sweetheart- how are you gonna get there on your own without a car? And at this time o' night, Mam'd have our 'eads if we let you go around alone…'

He was standing in the doorway now, all suited up and hair freshly combed, all ready to go, and watching her antics with mirth.

'What's the matter?'

'I can't go out looking like this!' Aveline tossed the sock she'd been holding aside and sat down on the bed, tears of frustration threatening to ruin the mascara she'd spent half an hour doing.

'You look fine, Princess!' Joey sat down beside her, putting a reassuring arm around her shoulder. 'You'll be the belle of the ball! Prettiest girl there, I'm tellin' you!'

'But Joey, _look_!' she stuck her leg forward. 'How can I go to the party with _that_?'

Joey's brow furrowed. 'With what?'

'_That_,' Aveline repeated. 'Look! _There!_'

She jabbed her finger at the rip, and Joey, instead of cooing sympathetically, simply cackled and tightened the arm around her.

'Aw, no-one's gonna notice that! It's miniscule!'

'But-'

'I mean, you had to point it out to me before I spotted it, didn't you? Come on, Aveline, you haven't got time to change now- everyone else has been ready for hours- and no-one'll notice it, I promise you!'

'But, Joey….'

'_Come on,_' everyone's waitin'!' Just a sprinkle of impatience now flavoured Joey's voice. He guided her to her feet and ushered her out onto the landing.

'Look, your skirt covers it anyway! See? Nothin' to worry about!'

It only _just_ did, and if she so much as stood in the wrong position the hole would be on show for all to see, and Aveline would have protested and pointed this out had Joey not been so insistent in propelling her down the stairs.

'Oh- about _time_!' was Adrian's greeting. 'My patience was 'angin' by a-'

'Never mind about that,' Joey said. 'She's here now, looking lovely as ever. Shall we embark?'

Adrian got up, smoothing down the brown cords Carmen had loved so much, and Jack, mumbling something about hoping this would be a better year than the last, rose to join him.

'You comin', Billy?' Joey asked, his arm still firmly planted around Aveline's shoulders to prevent escape.

'No,' came a huff from the settee, 'there's no point. Julie's not goin'. She says it's gonna go on too late and she can't leave Francesca that long. Aww,' Billy whined, 'marriage is no fun! I thought Julie was gonna be happier and more fulfilled when we were married- and now all she ever does is grumble about things and scold me for not comin' 'ome!'

'Well, hadn't you better be gettin' yourself back over the road then?' Joey suggested, 'before you get yourself in hot water?'

'Nah,' said Billy. 'If I go 'ome, she'll scold me.'

Joey just shook his head and led the way out the door.

The outside air was cold and crisp, and Aveline regretted for a while not swallowing her pride and putting on a coat- although, she reminded herself, if she'd done that, nobody would have seen her new outfit. Bracing herself against the chill, she followed her brothers towards Joey's Jag and climbed in.

As she lifted her leg into the car, Aveline felt a terrible sensation, as if something were splitting and little strings were spreading across her thigh. Biting her lip with dread, she looked down at her legs, and nearly cried out at what she saw.

The climb into the car had aggravated the tear, pulling the fabric of her tights even further apart, and now she sported a coin-sized hole, made even uglier by the few strands and threads still clinging to each end. There wasn't a hope of nobody noticing it now.

_Well, thanks for nothing, Joey!_

* * *

><p>The party around her was jumping with life, cheerful souls dancing with abandon and living it up with champagne and kisses and streamers. It was the very epitome of a New Year's Eve party, everything Joey had promised and more, but Aveline couldn't bring herself to enjoy it one bit. She hadn't dared take so much as a bite from the buffet, for fear the junk food would go straight to her thighs and cause her leg to bulge through the hole in her tights. She'd attempted a dance, hoping that bobbing around would make her a mere blur to others, and thus her shame less visible, but only a few seconds of twisting and writhing to the music and her tights had split all the way down her leg, creating a ladder big enough for the whole of the Navy to climb up, and certainly big enough to make her the laughing stock of the entire room. No-one had said anything yet, but they were bound to be thinking things- how could they not be? They'd seen her ladder- they must have. It was impossible to miss. Oh, she could practically feel their disapproval, hear their silent snickers, sense their eyes raking up and down in her direction, gravitating on it.<p>

Aveline wanted to go home. There was nothing that could please her here, not when she was in this state. She could get an early night and wake up looking more rested, or at the very least, she could furnish herself with a fresh pair of tights and come back- but none of her brothers were showing any signs of wanting to leave, nor even a willingness to duck out for a few minutes to oblige her. Adrian was busy enjoying his newfound freedom from Carmen, chatting animatedly with any woman who'd stand still long enough, just because he could, Jack was boasting to a couple of acquaintances about the ticket he'd scored to America, courtesy of Uncle Eddie, and Joey was floating effortlessly around the gathering, charming everything and everyone in sight. They were all enjoying themselves far too much to be bothered by her. The best thing she could do would be to sit here for the duration, legs crossed to hide the monstrosity that had formed there, all politeness and loveliness with a carefully concealed secret. If no-one bothered her, she just might be able to wait this one out.

'Ahem.'

Aveline ignored the noise, continuing to stare through the merrymaking masses at the clock, her eyes growing heavy and her vision blurring as she waited for the hands to move another infinitesimal segment of an inch forward.

'Ahem,' came the voice again, and she realised that, rather than it merely signifying some stranger behind her clearing his throat, the sound was being deliberately directed at her. Oh, if this was some randy, half-drunk fella she would have a fit. That was all she needed tonight- and she didn't have her whistle on her either. She'd have to make do defending herself with one of her shoes.

Slowly, she turned her head, reaching her hand down to the buckle on the side of her stiletto as she did so, ready to…

'Eh?!'

Aveline's attempts to get herself a weapon were instantly dropped, and she couldn't help the cry- of surprise as much as delight- as she found herself face to face with someone whom she hadn't, in a million years, expected to see.

'Oswald!'

How was this possible? Her beau of two weeks, the ever-so-upright and ever-so-busy vicar of St. Mary's was here, at a rowdy New Year's bash, where she had been sure would have been the last place in the world to see a man of the cloth. He'd have far more important things to be doing with his time, surely? If she'd been drinking, Aveline might have thought her own senses were deceiving her, and yet there was no denying that in front of her stood Oswald Carter, real and large as life, looking smartly relaxed in his cleric's collar and canvas jacket, and, more importantly, holding his hand out to her.

'What are you doin' 'ere?' she asked, incredulous.

'Well,' Oswald chuckled, and it was the most wonderful tonic to all the evening's worries, 'you know, one of the perks of being a loveable vicar is that one ends up with a lot of very agreeable friends, and thus finds oneself invited to a great number of social events.'

'_You!'_ Loveable vicar indeed. 'You sound just like me brother Joey! Only…only more posher!'

'That's _posher_,' Oswald corrected gently. 'Not 'more posher.' And you, I have to say, are looking extremely lovely tonight.'

Aveline's cheeks coloured a bright red that rivalled the liberal amounts of blusher she'd subjected them to earlier.

_'You_,' she said again, giggling. Oswald laughed back, and offered her his hand again.

'Now then, I've been wandering around this party for _hours_, hardly knowing a soul, and having no-one whatsoever to dance with. I don't suppose…' Oswald made a show of looking round surreptitiously, 'I don't suppose you'd care to do me the honour?'

Oh, Aveline would have cared to- most desperately, in fact, as her liking for Oswald had been steadily growing stronger with every secret meeting- but with three of her brothers skulking around the place, not to mention many other people who might send word back to her Mam, and, of course, with that _other_ inconvenience to factor in…

'But I've laddered me tights!' She blurted out, perhaps too loudly for her own good. A few people in the vicinity looked her way, and Aveline gave a little embarrassed laugh.

'Have you indeed?' At least, far from being disgusted, Oswald appeared quite tickled by her worries about her wardrobe.

'Yeah, _look_!' It was only after she thrust her leg forward that it dawned on Aveline that this might not have been such a tactful manoeuvre. Oswald's own cheeks now flushed slightly, and she hastened to coil her leg back in on itself once more.

'I can't dance with it like this!' she whined. 'All me friends'll see, and me reputation as a model will suffer, and I'll look dead ugly, and…'

'All right then,' Oswald said, laying a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. 'We shan't dance, if the idea displeases you so. Although,' he lowered his voice, 'I would like to spend some time with you, now I know you're here. What do you say to a walk?'

Aveline wriggled in her chair, torn.

'Outside,' Oswald urged, 'where no-one else can lay eyes on your tights, and we can be alone.'

If anyone else had made this entreaty, if anyone at all in the world, excepting the immediate members of her family, had enticed her with an offer to walk out into the dark alone with them, Aveline would have cried for help and gone for her whistle, alarm or whatever rape-warning system she had handy at the time. Her brothers would have rallied round her, leaping into their cars to rally to her defence and protect her from the offender. She would have had frightful dreams for weeks.

But this wasn't anyone else- this was Oswald, who, despite only having known him a little while, she trusted wholeheartedly, and so, with a grateful smile, she stood up, smoothing her skirt down as far as it would go and stooping over in a rather hopeless attempt to cover up the ladder. Aveline trotted after Oswald, oblivious to the fact that her strange, hunched walk was drawing more attention to her than if she'd just acted normal, and stepped out into the night air.

Once again, Aveline felt a slight regret at not having a less stylish and slightly warmer outfit on, but she pushed that thought aside as she felt Oswald's hand fumble for hers.

'Well, then,' the vicar said as they started slowly up the street. 'This has been a vastly better New Year's Eve than I'd planned on having. To tell you the truth, I'm not one for parties and noisy celebrations, but if it means running into you…'

Aveline's insides screamed in excitement. She waited for him to go on complimenting her- a compliment from Oswald meant more than all the other remarks from all the other people in the world- but instead, he stopped, turning towards her and picking up her other hand.

'Aveline, I wonder…would you think it dreadfully forward of me if I asked you, seeing as it is New Year's Eve…'

'To let you kiss me?' Aveline finished for him?

Oswald paused for a moment.

'Well, I was actually going to ask if you'd dance with me now, out here, but your idea sounds much better.'

Aveline giggled as Oswald leaned in.

'May I?'

She reached her head up, but then stopped, pressing her fingernails into his chest.

'Even when I 'ave a big, ugly ladder in me tights?'

Oswald laughed, the sound echoing through the deserted street.

'I always forget what an amusing little creature you are. Yes, Aveline, even if you had ten 'big ugly ladders' in your tights, as you say- I don't think it would very much matter.'

'Aw, hey,' Aveline said, flattered and pleased beyond her wildest dreams, '_you._'

And with that, Oswald leaned in and kissed her. And, just for a little while, it didn't matter that Aveline's hose were ruined, or that she might have made an embarrassment of herself at the party. All that mattered was that Oswald was here, and that he'd just kissed her, effectively making all  
>her dreams (the ones that didn't involve being a top Vogue model, anyway) come true.<p>

They stayed like that for several minutes, regardless of the night air nipping at them, bathed in happiness. And then…

'Aw no!' Aveline leapt back, gaping in horror.

'What's the matter?' Oswald bit his lip, looking as though he felt personally responsible for her latest tragedy, or perhaps was worried he'd done something wrong.

'I've torn the _other_ leg of me tights!'


End file.
